A recent sobering and yet comical event that needs no further elaboration drove home the point to a woman of a certain age that she should always visit the lav before ever hopping on a treadmill. Ugh, the women's locker room...ick on so many levels. Public bathrooms are stressful enough without adding nude people sauntering about putting on deodorant and hair gel while grabbing looky-loos at themselves in the mirrors. I unaffectionately call them "the nakeds."
Pompeii nudes. A most decadent civilization that would have enjoyed and may even have founded the YMCA
I grew up in a houseful of women and then lived four years with college roommates who never ever closed a door unless there were boys or dads around. It’s not like I can’t handle nudity. I like to think I'm very nude friendly with close friends and family and I do enjoy a nude artfully posed. But as for the rabble at the gym….nope, no thank you. And the thing of it is, health club nakeds seem just a little too into being naked in front of strangers and I’m not alone in this feeling having talked with several friends. We agree that there are definitely fitness exhibitionists. Their swaggers taunt my priggishness.
Today I escaped nudity in my mad dash through the locker room but was unfortunately not spared a myriad of glamour don'ts that come from getting ready for work out of the bottom of a gym bag. Tragic.
He was on the elliptical next to me